Caress the Gold

It is a Friday. Yes, it is so hot out that most photographers have taken to the studio cool. We were to journey to the beach Saturday.
The prospect of the return to the calming influence of the Atlantic ocean at Crescent Beach leaves as a weep tide. Perhaps we shall journey after all, for as I said previously, I am there now, the waves gently lapping upon the worn one.
And so I sit and watch the caressing of the marigold, the sway of the amaranth, the song of the spider lily,the praise of the Gloriosa Lily and know if the oceans swell not for me, then I have this little garden of friends to carry me.

Two Sides

Two views of the same Sweet Gum leaves in the Spanish Moss. One from the front the other behind, or vise versa, depending upon where you prefer to stand.

River Otter

In the early morning low light under the thick trees, the River Otter made his appearance to me. He snorted continually, then swam underwater, leaving a long bubble trail for me to follow. After a few minutes of this following, he briefly surfaced by his den and I captured a few photographs.

Gulf Fritillary

Agraudis vanillae are returning to the Northern edges of their range to recolonize for the coming summer and fall. Today we encountered them in the fields surrounding Alligator Lake.

Eastern Black Swallowtail

Papilio polyxenes asterius returned today. It has been a long time missing you. In the coming days, as we flit among the Gulf Fritillary and Monarchs passing through, I trust our time upon the fields of lavender will be rich as you fulfill your Iliad.

Otter Man

I cannot get from my thoughts the inane comments a friend made the other day concerning her photographic approach. Too hot, water too low, do not carry camera, do not use little camera in phone...spending her time submitting to magazines, making a little here and there.
I thought of all this as I was again out in the heat of the morning, trekking about, so much overwhelming me, too many scenes I could stop and photograph. I was most pleased to see so many Gulf Fritillary butterflies in the open field. A few Monarchs and one Black Swallowtail. Sulphurs mixed and various moths. One or two of the photographs sang as the backlighting looked right and the background softly out of focus and the flash just right.
And then there was the otter. He saw me before I saw him and snorted into the water, his bubbles showing his path underwater. He would surface, look and snort. I followed him back and forth along the canal before his must of tired and surfaced partially by his den. I got several frames, though the light was dim and the flash not too strong. Later I returned at a slower pace, anticipating seeing him and I found him before he could see me, dozing on top of his den. Again, I got several frames before he snorted and went back to making bubbles. I waited for him to return for about thirty minutes, but he never did.
The thirty minutes was a good wait though, as I sat in stillness, the woods came back to life around me. The owls and woodpeckers called again. The turtles surfaced. The dragonflies lit near me. I thought, we are the big foot in this nature, crashing about, making noise, intruding.  The rest was good.
Even though it neared noon, the time they say photographs should not be taken, still many scenes shouted for me to capture, capture! If you allow yourself to be hemmed in by the inane, like, too hot, water too low, everyone is doing that, sun too high, you will miss so much.
I mean, I was out there, right in the middle of it all, and looked at all I missed! 

Signs of Life

the shutter on the A540 often sticks and just a slit of an exposure is made. This time, with the help of a sunset and the sprinkler going, the slit reminds me of my own vision, often so narrow and confined. Darkness enveloping upon the light. But as the title suggests, it is not the closing in on life, but the opening. The promised signs of life. All about. Just for us to have the touch applied.

Shroud of Tevis

How does one explain? In the sprinkler the face of the Christ, as depicted upon the Shroud of Turin. The mystery of photography. The unintented consequences. It is what keeps me keeping the little camera or the bigger camera at the side.

Life of Hummer

This poor little female rarely gets to taste from the feeder. The male hummingbird dominates the feeders by the window and tries his hardest to maintain sole ownership. You would think it would be to his best interest to let her feed, but he will have nothing to do with fair play. I spend up to an hour each morning trying to capture these hummingbirds in the right light and pattern. They are so fast, that rarely do I get one that is acceptable. I use the D40 Nikon since it has a 500 shutter speed that syncs with the flash. This helps freeze the action. I also like to use a slow shutter speed under 15 with the flash. This gives a nice ghost image. Mainly though, I am just contented to get one hovering or sitting on a limb next to the feeder.

Icon Tree Truckers

It was one of those photographs I have taken, only to realize, upon further investigation, there is more to it than first seen. My first impression as I followed this tree truck to work one morning last week, was the little branch hanging over, and the large trunk. They were like being taken prisoner, slaughter, cemetery, etc.
Then, I got to looking at the rust patterns and clearly to me, on the right side panel, a distinct graphic depiction of Jesus as drawn by artists. He has a sad countenance. He is looking off to the right. Am I the only one who saw it? I certainly did not see it when I first took the photograph.

Fawn Upon Suwannee

Worn from the humidified heat, having walked up to the Big Shoals for a look about, I had made my way to the low lying shoal below Big Shoals. Taking inventory of the camera bag, wiping condensation from my glasses and lenses, I sat and just caught it all in. Then, along the not so distant bank, this little fawn, not knowing I was sitting at waters edge, romped and ran back and forth along the bank , in seeming play. Truth is, she had probably already spotted me and was trying to make it out of the clearing, panicking that the opening she remembered was not readily found.
I had enough time to pull the D40 from the bag with the 55-200 and follow focus her for about ten frames until she bounded up into the palmettos. She would do well to stay high off the bank, for just below her, down stream a bit, lurks the eight foot alligator I see each time I come to his spot.

Monday Sway

I am not even attempting to rhyme anymore. I am simply writing lines, suppose you would call it prose.
It is a prose about my journey to the Suwannee River at Bell Springs yesterday afternoon. It was a call to heed. A call needed. A friend came by the store the other day, who happens to be a 'photographer'. I shall call her a fair weather photographer. She made several comments that kind of caused me to ponder and say huh?
When I said, have you been out photographing lately? She replied, too hot. I said, I have been upon the Suwannee. She said, Too low, everyone is doing low water photography.. Then I said, Do you always carry your camera? She said, No. And she will probably make the cover of Rolling Stone.

Monday Sway   by john clare

Three-thirty overtook me and drew me away
In a familiar track the wheels turned toward Suwannee
Who cares the day grey and the rain on its way?
Waters upon the lens makes diffused spots of interest
And a wet camera upon the river
beats a dry camera in the bag at home any day.
To the grassy lot of Bell Springs I parked next to the red pick up
It looked as if Monroe had moved from his home to my right.
It is never a happy sight to see another vehicle in the lot
If usually means noise and the scattering of the creatures.
But today all was quiet except the rain in the trees
Once upon the shore the pattered sand showed no tracks of men
Upstream a large alligator floated in mid river facing south.
Further up the tobacco hopper posed atop a cypress knee
Each time I focused he moved so I kept placing him back.
He grew weary of this game and fled to quieter knees.
And the nerve of me to blame others for ruining tranquility.
I could walk no further on the edge as the water had risen
So I back traced the way I entered and up the steep bank
Into the sparkle berry and palmetto I blended.
My shadow appeared at last as the sun broke but for a moment.
Shadow said quicker now, there may be rainbows appearing.
Under the canopy of green two passion flowers  opened instead.
They had the best view taken high upon the bank to the passing
river below them.
On the way out I glanced over to see if death was still watching.
He was, but the moccasin let me pass with my life to carry but
for another day.
And the man said it was good to get away
if but for an hour.
for an hour with the camera beats twenty-four without.
And it was good.








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